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“Ooh, lookie what we got here,” Adriana tittered as she steered the ancient, rust-brown Ford LTD into the parking lot of the Kwik Sack.
Betsey glanced up from the wad of bills she was counting to find out what her friend was snarling about, and saw a tangle of Harleys taking up over half of the parking lot, as well as most of the spaces along the front of the convenience store.
“Biker stallions,” Gemma said with a smirk as they pulled up into a parking space facing the newspaper machines. Adriana killed the engine, and Betsey craned her neck around her friend to get a good look at the group of male werewolves hanging out en masse with their bikes.
“Those are the new guys,” she said absently, and eased back in the passenger seat. She resumed counting the money they’d collected for the beer run as though finding some fifty-odd motorcycles parked anywhere inside the Silver city limits was a common occurrence.